Rocking Socks
by Jammeke
Summary: In which Emmett rocks socks – literally.


**Title:** Rocking Socks

**Author:** Jammeke

**Summary:** In which Emmett rocks socks – literally.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Twilight. Never did, never will.

**Rating:** K

**Author's Note:** This story is told from Bella's point of view - and _not _to be taken seriously.

**Rocking Socks**

"Come on, Emmett, give them back to me."

"Nope. I'm not done yet."

"Please?"

"Nu-uh."

I narrowed my eyes at Edward's youngest brother and tried again. "Emmett. Give them back to me _now_."

He laughed at me.

I felt insulted. When Edward raised his voice, everyone all but stumbled over their feet in their haste to meet his requests as quickly as possible. When _I_ tried to be intimidating, everyone just grinned or stared at me like I'd grown a second head. It wasn't fair.

I scowled at him. "Don't laugh." The situation was remarkably unfunny. I stood barefoot in the middle of the Cullens' living room, and the floor under my feet was ice cold. My toes were starting to grow numb, and I _really_ needed my woollen socks back. "What do you need them for anyway?"

Emmett shrugged. "I need them so I can do this." He started waving my socks around.

My eyes widened. "Emmett, what are you doing?"

The bulky vampire gave me a playful smile. "I am rocking your socks."

"I can see that." I was still staring at the socks he was now waving above his head. "Would you please stop doing that?"

"I can't stop rocking socks, Bella."

I was confused. "How can you _not_ stop rocking socks?"

"I'm just awesome like that."

I stared at him.

"Emmett, I need you to give me a hand," shouted Rosalie's voice from the garage. I briefly wondered why the blonde felt the need to shout, because a whisper would've been enough to capture her husband's attention, but then I figured she probably didn't want to hide the fact that she wanted Emmett as far away from me as possible.

Emmett walked out of the living room, my socks still firmly grasped in his hands.

I looked down at my bare feet. Was it just me, or were my toes turning blue? "Edward?"

It didn't take longer than thirty seconds for my boyfriend to storm into the living room. "Bella, love, what's wrong?" His shirt was a little crumpled from the hunt, but other than that, he looked utterly unfazed. His golden eyes were filled with concern though.

"Emmett took my socks," I said, feeling like a ten-year-old. To be fair, I _was_ acting like a ten-year-old, but at the very least, I played the part of a ten-year-old with freezing feet.

Edward sighed deeply.

"What?" I asked, feeling left out. Was rocking socks some sort of vampire ritual I'd never heard of before? It was a distinct possibility, because I'd never heard of _sparkling_ vampires either, let alone vegetarian ones.

"Did he start rocking them?" Edward asked. He walked over to the linen cupboard and started searching through the drawers.

"Yes," I said suspiciously.

Edward's hands stopped moving, and a moment later, a greyish pair of socks came flying in my direction. "Here, pull these on. They'll keep your feet warm until he finds himself another pair."

I quickly pulled the socks on – almost losing my footing in my haste to pull them over my heels – and stared at Edward when I was done, waiting for an explanation.

"There's not much to explain, love," Edward said, smiling slightly at my eager expression. "All I know is Emmett rocks socks occasionally."

I decided not to dwell on how ridiculous that statement sounded, because it was time to start being practical about the situation. "So if he needs to rock socks on occasion, why doesn't he just wave around his own socks?"

Edward frowned. "We have no idea," he admitted. He walked over to the couch, sat down with the grace of a trained panther, and patted the empty spot next to him.

I sat down.

"Carlisle was the one who found out about it," Edward told me, as he ran his icy fingers through my hair. I suppressed a shudder. I hadn't completely warmed up yet, but I wasn't about to ask him to stop. I _could_ deal with cold body parts, but they had to be someone else's. Preferably Edward's.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

Edward shrugged lightly. "Carlisle needs to do a lot of reading to keep his medical research up to date. Until recently, he learnt out of books and medical files, but the Internet has become quite an important source of information over the past decade."

"Okay," I said slowly.

"Bella, do you ever look things up on the Internet?" Edward asked.

I shook my head. "My computer is very slow. I only go online to mail Renée every now and then."

Edward smiled. "Well, if you were to browse the Internet more often, you might notice that a lot of people claim Emmett rocks their socks." He pulled me closer to him, and I clenched my teeth to keep them from chattering. "He seems to rock socks from people all over the world."

"Really?" I found that hard to believe.

"Really," Edward confirmed.

"But… why?" I asked.

"As I said before, we have no idea," Edward told me. His expression became thoughtful. "Emmett claims he _has _to because he is rather awesome."

"He did not use the word _rather_," I couldn't help but protest.

Edward smiled. "No, he didn't."

"All right, so Emmett rocks socks and we're not sure why," I summarized. "What are we going to do about it?"

Edward kissed the top of my head. "We are going to wait for him to return your socks and hope he starts rocking someone else's socks soon."

I groaned. The socks Edward had given me were itchy, and I longed for my own woollen pair.

We were quiet for a couple of minutes, content to just sit on the couch and enjoy each other's company while Emmett rocked my socks. My feet were starting to warm up, and I inched even closer to my boyfriend, knowing I could handle the cold now.

Suddenly, we heard a scream from the garage. "Emmett, give me my socks back!"

Edward looked me in the eye. "Jasper."

Jasper's scream was followed by a high squeal. Was Emmett trying to pull off Alice's socks, too?

"Emmett, stop it." Rosalie.

"I really can't help it," was her husband's response. "I'm just _that_ cool."

I couldn't help it; I laughed. Edward gave me a disapproving look. "Don't encourage his behaviour."

"But Emmett rocks my socks," I pointed out. "He rocks everyone's socks."

And I accepted that, because really… how could I not?

How could I be mad at Emmett for rocking my socks? Emmett was the big brother I'd always wanted: he was funny, strong and brave. He was _awesome_.

Emmett rocked socks. Because he couldn't _not _rock socks.

And I realized I was fine with that - as long as Edward kept providing me with new ones.

The end


End file.
